What Would Never Be
by dreamgoddess'92
Summary: Set after "What Is and Should Never Be"  2.20 . Dean can't stop thinking of 'what if.' Sam senses his brother's struggle and tries to quell his doubts.


This is my first Supernatural fic!

I do not own Supernatural or anything associated with it unfortunately.

I actually just got into the series earlier this month. I'm so late to join the party, but it sucked me in so fast I didn't stand a chance. I saw "What Is and Should Never Be" this morning and it literally broke my heart. I felt so bad for Dean and I couldn't leave him alone. I felt compelled to write a little something after the episode.

Reviews would be great and I hope you all enjoy it.

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Dean could still smell her on his clothes.

No matter how many times he washed them or shed blood on the old clothes, he could still smell his mother's scent. It made him sick to his stomach.

It had all been in his head: all of it.

The warmth of his mother's arms around him, the musical notes in her laughter, and the way she smelled of warm vanilla had been concocted into a sick fantasy that played in his head like a movie.

It was torture.

Dean was trying his hardest to ignore the concerned pair of eyes that flickered his way before burying themselves in a book. Sam had been watching his older brother carefully since the Dijnn attack. Dean was too tired to be annoyed buy Sam's attentiveness and maybe that was why Sam didn't try to hide his casual glances like he normally would.

Knowing Sam, he was waiting for Dean's resolve to crumble; he was waiting for Dean to talk about his 'dream world.'

Dean huffed in annoyance as his mind recalled his mother's face. It had been haunting him for the past three days. Sleeping was hard and Dean often woke up for good after a couple of hours. The remnants of the illusion floated in and out of his subconscious as a side effect of the Dijnn's ability.

Sam looked over at his brother and his frown deepened.

"You look tried Dean. You should call it a night." Sam said his voice sounding amplified in the tomb-like atmosphere.

Dean couldn't disagree with him so he nodded and watched as Sam shut his books and began getting ready for bed as well. Neither of them had been sleeping decently and Dean had the sneaking suspicion his insomnia was affecting Sam. It was so like them to be off kilter just because the other one was.

Dean changed while Sam cleaned up in the bathroom. He was under the covers with his eyes closed before Sam entered their room.

Dean heard Sam's small sigh of defeat and that was soon devoured by the sound of sheets being pulled down and a mattress squeaking when Sam laid down to what he hoped was a restful sleep.

A hush fell over the dank hotel room and Dean settled down for a long sleepless night knowing Sam was doing the same.

Dean's mind began to drift to his bother, more accurately the relationship he had with Sam while in the Dijnn's clutches.

They didn't speak outside of family functions.

What kind of fucked up reality was that? Dean couldn't imagine not taking to Sam everyday. Sam had been an integral part of Dean's life since he was four. They hunted together, got into trouble together; hell they were laying not five feet from each other in a hotel neither of them cared for.

You couldn't have one without the other for the most part. The idea of Mary's survival causing a rift between Dean and Sam made Dean's heart hurt. He'd never admit it though.

Dean wondered if he could trust the fake world he was thrust into. He had been an asshole who took advantage of his bother and apparently gotten drunk a lot in that dream world. Was it possible that without hunting he'd be that kind of a man?

Dean shuddered at the thought of stealing from his mother and skipping out on Sam's childhood adventures.

Dean clenched his eyes shut as his mother's voice assaulted his ears.

He had been so tempted to stay. He could've built bridges and fixed things with Sam while going to his mother's house, foxy girlfriend in tow. There'd be no hunting, no rank hotels and unfriendly bars. Dean could have a normal life safe from the unseen dangers he'd grown up fighting with his dad and Sam.

Dean turned his head to look at Sam as the streetlights filtered in through the broken blinds and fell upon his baby brother's face.

No, he couldn't leave Sam. After everything they had been through and the threat of a darker purpose set for Sam not far ahead, Dean couldn't abandon his brother. He had been raised to look after Sam; despite how unfair it was sometimes and as painful as it could be, Dean would always look after Sam.

Sam's hazel eyes opened and met Dean's. They didn't say anything, both waiting for the other to break the silence. Sam, who had a fairly good idea of what Dean was brooding over, finally decided a push was what his brother needed.

"Even if we didn't have the hunts, I doubt we'd be alienated from each other Dean."

Dean's eyes widened slightly as Sam's words echoed in the dim room.

Sometimes Sam was just freaky when he read Dean so easily.

Sam turned away from Dean and laid his hands behind his head giving Dean a moment to collect his thoughts. Truth be told he had been thinking the same thing lately.

Sam knew he and Dean didn't have much in common. They had different tastes in music, food, and even women. Despite all that Sam was sure he and Dean would make it work without the life endangerment and death all around them. They were night and day therefore they couldn't work without the other there to watch his back.

Sam was pulled from his thoughts as Dean finally spoke: his voice low and slightly unstable.

"How can you be sure of that Sam? I mean if Mom had lived we wouldn't have been on the run for years. You wouldn't need my protection from the demons out there and we'd go our separate ways into this normal society we both have wanted at one point in our lives." Dean spoke without much inflection in his voice.

Sam paused before answering, threading his words together in a comforting lifeline he could toss his brother.

"It would never be like that Dean. You're my brother regardless of how many demons we fight or how many graduations you missed. I have your back and you have mine."

Dean felt the sting of tears in his eyes and bit back the whimper that threatened to break through. Dammit he was supposed to be the strong one. It wasn't Sam's job to remind him why they hunted or that they'd always watch each other's back. That had been Dean's job since the fire.

"Get some rest Dean, we have to be on the road early tomorrow," Sam said after a few silent minutes had passed.

Dean snorted feeling the ache in his chest lessen.

"Don't tell me what to do. I'm the big brother here bitch." Dean lightly snapped back and Sam's muffled laughter dispelled the sounds of their dead mother's voice.

"Whatever jerk." Sam replied before rolling over to finally get some sleep.

Dean couldn't hold back the relieved chuckle before closing his eyes.

Sure he missed his mom and dad. Being a hunter meant sacrificing everything to save strangers. It meant long road trips and ugly hotels along with crowded bars and the occasional woman to pass the lonely nights.

There was still a part of Dean that wished he hadn't lost so much. He was tired of it all and craved an escape. However he had glimpsed a normal life and realized, as Sam's deep breaths filled the room, that wasn't the life for him.

As long as Dean had Sam, the sacrifices were worth it.

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*cheers*

Not too bad if I do say so myself. Then again, I've never written something like this so I could be horribly mistaken.

I hope I did Dean and Sam justice.


End file.
